


Hi

by writers_blocc



Category: Faking It (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writers_blocc/pseuds/writers_blocc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy's worst fear comes into fruition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hi

**Author's Note:**

> Random drabble about Amy's worst fear in relation to her friendship with Karma.

It's not so much a grocery store that sets the scene, but a Target way on the outskirts of Houston. Since you and Lauren went off to college, your mom didn't see much point in keeping the house after retirement, and instead settled in a nice beach condo where the view is amazing, the shopping is great and the location is to die for and 'oh so family friendly' as Farrah would put it – it would be even better if you and Sabrina could finally give her some grandkids to chase after – but you digress.

You want kids. You just don't want them right now.

You're blindly looking at the shampoos, trying to find the brand that your mom specifically asked of you. She even made you write it down – and text a picture of the used bottle she has so you won't mistakenly buy the wrong kind. Ever since she decided to switch it up on a random spree of spontaneity – its worked wonders for her, and she hasn't seen her hair this bouncy and full of life in ten years. So you have to be sure to choose the right one. You're starring with one eye at the picture on your phone while simultaneously eyeing the bottle on the shelf. The color of the bottle is the same, it has the same images of mangos, the brand and name all match up – all systems are a-go. You reach for it when out of your peripheral vision you catch an image of auburn hair passing the isle. And your hand stills.

You don't know why but you stand up straight to crane your neck. It couldn't be her, you tell yourself. For some reason, auburn hair just catches your eye. It reminds you of a familiar, less hectic time - that's all. But even so, you find yourself wondering... what if? Last time you checked she was in Nashville – at least that's what Facebook tells you the last time you bothered to look. But something in the pit of your stomach is nagging you to pay attention as your mind argues to stay put, grab the shampoo and go.

Your stomach wins out.

And subtly you peek out the aisle, right behind the advertised toothpaste and mouth wash combo. A great deal the sign says, for all college freshman and returning classes. You can't really see much, but you're too afraid to move any further than were you are now; your feet are firmly rooted to the tile on which you stand and you doubt you could get your legs to move even if you wanted to.

There are shoppers galore, weaving in and out of the red aisles, cashing in on that 4th of July special were the deals are too insane to pass up, and caught in the middle is a woman with auburn hair who has the right height, and even though you can't see her face – that little voice inside of you just knows. You know its Karma. You'd know her anywhere.

It feels like the world has been set in slow motion as she turns in your direction, you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage and you've all but stopped breathing. She's not looking at you – but she's facing your direction, and holy shit, you've realized your worst fear has come to fruition.

You're not in a grocery store and you haven't exchanged awkward hellos, but you are hiding behind toothpaste and this isn't the scenario you wanted either.

"Excuse me," a timid voice comes into your focus from the left. It breaks you out of your trance, and you realize you are blocking the isle where a little old lady is trying to get to the conditioner. She's asking to get by you, but you can't go back because the isle is now full of shoppers and their shopping carts. You can only go right. You can only go right into the line of vision and holy F-in crap, your standing in the middle of the store and so is she.

She doesn't look at you immediately but you can feel the exact moment that she does. Call it your hard wiring or whatever but even after all these years you're still oddly in sync with one another and that look she's giving you now; that same look you had when you realized it was her is now crossing her features as it dawns on her what's happening. The wheels are turning and you would bet your life savings that she's wondering what to say because you are too.

Time seems to have speed up now, and the shoppers are bustling around you trying to get from point A to point B without disrupting this moment.

Finally, "Hey," you crack first. You're not one for awkward pauses. It kills you just a little on the inside. "Hi," she attempts to smile with the word – but you know it's hard for her. It's hard for you as well. All those years ago when you two developed this friendship – you never imagined you'd be here. Once upon a time you promised each other that you wouldn't. But promises can only go so far when no-one is willing to hold up their end of the bargain.

You want to say something sarcastic – for old times sake, to lighten the mood, to get her to smile at you the way she used to instead of that forced way were the entire top row of her teeth are showing, but you can't. You stand still, hands deep in your jean pockets just starring at her – because wow, she's still beautiful as ever and even though you are over her, you miss her just the same and all you want to do is reach out and grab her into a hug.

Your hands stay in your pockets because of this, and you dig your heels into the soles of your sneakers to keep from taking the first step. It would be too much if she rejected you like all those years ago.

"How are you," her voice cracks and eventually goes out towards the end, and you shrug in return. You're doing great, you couldn't be happier actually – but it's still odd to say all of that after all these years, so you divert it by asking her the same.

"Good."

"That's good." And you've never been good at small talk.

She's not lying, there's a glow about her that impossible to miss. You're happy for her; really you are. The sounds of the busy store now interlace the quietness that has settled back in and for the first time since you've stood here – you look away – at anything else – at the customers, the advertisement – the sickingly amount of flags that remind you your back home in the good ol' state of Texas, when you catch that familiar sound. It's a sound you haven't heard in years but then again her laughter has always been music to your ears. She's barely holding it together, she even goes as far to cover her mouth – but there in her eyes you can see the uncontrollable elation just dying to come out and from force of habit, you're not sure – you laugh too.

You laugh so hard you feel unushered tears brimming and starting to fall. You wipe hazardously at them – because what the fuck, you're laughing and crying and you're not sure what you're feeling exactly but you can't stop. You want to, God you wish you could just flip a switch and turn it off. If we're really thinking about it, you wish you could rewind the last couple of years and tell your younger self to stop being stubborn.

"Amy." You're not sure how you managed to get around these crazy shoppers but you do and a sense of familiarity and home enwraps you tight. It's something you never thought would happen again but boy, you're so glad you're wrong this time around. "Karma." You hiccup, through all the girly tears - and Jesus, Mary and Joseph you're a mess. "I missed you so much Karma."

Her name feels good to say. Sometime in college you were able to mention her without feeling your nerves wreck about in the worst of ways, and a few years after that – somewhere along lines the anger dissipated.

You don't know how long you stand in the middle of Target, just holding her tight, but you don't care – you don't care that you're holding up traffic and you sure as hell don't care who is watching because your heart, the one that had a Karma size hole in it, was now starting to come together. Piece by fractured piece.

You walk away with her new number. And you learn that she is married to the man of her dreams – and that glow – turns out she's 6 weeks pregnant with her first child? She is nervous and scared out of her mind but the way her eyes light up as she talks about her new life – you knows she's excited for her future.

She hears it through the grapevine that you and Sabrina got hitched last June, and for so long she wanted to reach out. To tell you congratulations – to say how much she misses you; but like you, she's scared out of her mind that it won't turn out for the best. Oh, how you wish she knew how much you've missed her. That you wished she would've reached out – but then again, the phone works both ways, and you should've called too.

You sit in the Starbucks located in Target for hours. You learn that she's home for the holidays and to tell her family the good news. You're home for the same reason, finally taking that much needed break from filming – and of course she's been keeping tabs on you because holy shit you have documentaries on Netflix, and she's seen every project you've taken on. She even attended the Sundance Film Festival to watch your film on premiere night. And how could you not know she was there.

You feel like an idiot but, "don't" she attest. It's in the past, and she - like you - wants to look forward to the future. She wants you to be there. She wants to rebuild that friendship. She wants you to meet Andy and come to her baby shower and visit her in Nashville to visit her ranch and stay for a week, or a month – hell even a year (there's a lot of catching up to do). "And bring Sabrina too," she adds enthusiastically because there is just so much she wants to do with you, so many things she want to learn. She wants to get back on track, and in that Karma(esk) way, the one were her eyes plead with you and look even bigger as she bats them with her best puppy dog impression; you can't say no. You doubt Sabrina will want to crash at a pregnant woman's house or that Andy will want the yearlong company but a week will do. A week, and she won't settle for anything less.

"How terrible is it that we've ended up in the exact place we never thought we would?"

"It's not a grocery store," you remind her with a small tilt of a smirk.

"You know what I mean."

It is weird. It's weird as hell, you look up at the Starbucks sign right above her shoulder, and come to terms that maybe all of this was meant to be. Maybe you had to go eight years just to get over that hurdle and figure out who you truly are as a person. Things are coming into place as you get older, and the truth is you like who've become. "Yeah, I know what you mean."


End file.
